the end was just the beginning
On weekends, when he's not refusing to come on mad missions, Husband is besting me in the parenting stakes. Take the one just passed. On Saturday, he made papier mache owls with the Sprogs (or more accurately, he made them with Sprog 1. Sprog 2 hoola hooped and got Daddy to finish hers). My thrilling contribution to the day was to take the... Continue Reading →
Husband and I are having an argument. It's been going on for weeks. I think he's being unreasonable. He thinks I'm being unreasonable. (As is the way with arguments.) So I thought I'd make a bad situation worse by telling you about it. See what you think. A lovely ex-employee of mine is holding an art exhibition in the... Continue Reading →
Nothing beats asking a children's pirate/magician if he can do a "zombie/pirate/magician" for putting the spring back in your step. And here I was thinking I needed happy pills. Or more exercise. Or less alcohol. Or a good shake. Something to stop me being so down on everything. It seems I just needed to do some zombie cajoling for Sprog 1's birthday party: "Shouldn't be... Continue Reading →
Like Christmas, the Sprogs' birthdays are planned with military precision. Six months ago, I ordered loads of Hawaiian hula party paraphernalia for Sprog 1's party. I got invitations, lolly bags, a dangly parrot, blow-up fish as party favours ... The idea came from an ad in Sydney's Child magazine for an entertainer who does hula parties. Cool, I thought. I love Hawaii. The ad promised she'd teach the kids to... Continue Reading →
I went for coffee with an old friend yesterday. Well, she had coffee, I had Diet Coke (don't tell the Sprogs). She's divorced, no kids. I'm not. We hadn't seen each other for three years. She arrived in a fitted T-shirt, tight jeans and red stilettos. I shuffled up in a baggy T-shirt, cargo pants and sneakers. She'd been working in the city... Continue Reading →
I got some "free" money at Medicare yesterday. Well, that's how it feels whenever they hand me those crisp bills. I forget about the massive outlay that lead to the minor payback. Ancient history. The Medicare office is in a shopping centre, so I did the logical thing - I spent all my free money. I got two pairs of cargo pants and... Continue Reading →
I need to find new ways to define myself. The old ones - mainly centered around work - don't apply anymore. Yet I don't feel ready to label myself as a "housewife". On our recent holiday, I nominated my profession as "editor" on all the customs forms. I haven't been an editor for years. When people ask me about... Continue Reading →
Husband stumbled out of bed at 9.30am yesterday and announced he wanted a "quiet day". Who the hell has a "quiet day" when there's a five-year-old and a seven-year-old running around? My idea of a quiet day is to curl up on the sofa with the papers and a cup of tea, have an afternoon nap,... Continue Reading →
Last night I dyed my hair. For the first time. At age 43. My grey, frazzled bits could no longer be ignored. I skipped the "essential" 48-hours-prior allergy test. Reckless, but I hate waiting. I bought my $17 box of dye at Woolies yesterday afternoon (last of the big spenders when it comes to personal grooming), and I wanted to use it... Continue Reading →
I thought it was the jetlag. Or because I was unmistakably fat again. Or my holiday booze fest. Or PMT. I've been battling this bleak malaise all week. And while all those symptoms may be partly to blame for my condition, I've decided the main cause is family fatigue syndrome. I love the Sprogs, I really, really, really do. But it's been four solid... Continue Reading →
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